Memories of Time Long Gone
by Greater Avenger
Summary: ON HOLD - How much are you willing to sacrifice for love? For Harry, the answer is everything. 7 years after losing his love during the final battle against Voldemort, Harry is on a suicidal quest to get her back, a quest filled with danger, betrayal, and
1. Prologue: History

**Memories of Time Long Gone**

Disclaimer:

Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of J. K. Rowling. Only the plotline of this story and any original characters I create are mine. This story is non-profit and only for personal enjoyment.  
  
  
  
Prologue – History: The Second Peace

The evening sun was slowly setting in the west, soon to be replaced by the refreshing cool air of a mid summer night. The clouds in the sky were currently painted blood red, as if to acknowledge the dreadful events that had transpired earlier in the day. None who witnessed what happened that day, on the grounds of a mysterious castle somewhere in Scotland, would ever think to speak of them again, for the horror was so terrible. And yet, the events themselves would be remembered for generations to come.

For on that faithful day, the ultimate battle between good and evil was waged. And though the forces of evil were dealt such a crushing blow that never again would it recover, the victory felt hollow to all who were present. Albus Dumbledore, whom, for generations, acted as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times, was lost forever to the greatest and most evil wizard the world has known, Voldemort.

Harry Potter, a boy who needs no introduction, and his famous group of friends, took up a task that most adult wizards dared not: confront Voldemort and his closest servants in a final contest of power and strength.

On one side stood a group of students who have underwent more training that any normal wizard would have had in a life time, preparing for this inevitable confrontation. On the other side, stood a collection of wizards and witches handpicked by the darkest of the Dark Lords for their prowess in the dark arts.

The battle waged on for what seemed like an eternity, for each combatant knew agonizingly well that every second of the fight might well be his or her very last on this world, and to them, every second seemed to last an eternity.

In the end, a fatal casualty was suffered on each side: the most evil tyrant the world had known was defeated by the boy he failed to kill on countless occasions. And that same boy suffered a pain worse than a thousand Cruciatius curses, a pain that will linger with him for the rest of his life: the loss of his first and only true love.

Later, the man responsible for the death of Harry's love, a man that, by all accounts, should have been rightfully kissed by dementors several times over for the evil he had committed, was exonerated of all crimes. It was believed that he was under the Imperius Curse, was what was said at the trial.

The-Boy-Who-Lived, unable to comprehend how such an injustice can come about, felt utterly betrayed by the very people he had dedicated his life to defend. With a heart full of sorrow, and a mind filled with disgust, Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world, disappeared from it without a trace.

People close to the boy speculated that he left to live in the Muggle world, away from all that reminded him of his lost love. But most thought that the remnants of Voldemort's followers got him, in a last act of revenge. Eventually, as no news of their hero was forthcoming, and even the two closest friends of the boy were unable to tell if The-Boy-Who-Lived was still deserving of his nickname, the magical communities of the planet pronounced Harry Potter to have been lost forever.

Nevertheless, on that fateful 31st day of the month of July, Voldemort was defeated for good, and the wizarding world considered it a day of celebration. In the immediate year following the great battle, some newly instated Minister of Magic thought to boost his prestige, and named the last day of July as _Harry Potter Day_: 'It's his birthday AND the day he defeated You-Kno… Voldemort. How can you possibly not make that a holiday?' was the minister's response whenever he was asked to justify the extravagant festival.

And none can find fault with that argument. So it was with high fanfare that every year, the wizarding world celebrated all that Harry Potter has done for it.

For seven long years, a serene peace reigned in both worlds, and all delighted in the well earned tranquility that was paid for by the lives of many brave souls. Yet, shadows stir wherever there is light, and so does evil wherever there is good. Once more, darkness was gathering on the horizon, threatening the disarming peace that the magical world has settled into…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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A/N: I know this story sounds kind of generic up to this point, but I can assure you it gets better! Please continue reading for awhile before deciding if this story is worth your time or not! And if you'd like, please **REVIEW**! I would really appreciate knowing someone is reading this out there, as this is my first fic.


	2. Life of a Hero

Chapter 1: Life of a Hero

The dying cheers of the crowd barely made it to the changing room of the English national team, but the men and woman inside could not tolerate even the faintest remainder of the game they just played.

'I still can't believe Krum', said the only female of the group, a slender and somewhat petite young woman with flaming red hair. 'Did you see that move he made? I thought he was done for when both of his arms were broken by that bludger.'

'Well, that was certainly the most useful application of the Potter manoeuvre I've ever seen.' Came the voice of her teammate, a man with big muscles and carrying a giant bat. But at the sounds of Harry Potter's name, the room's mood suddenly went from depressed to apprehensive. All eyes turned to the tall, red haired man sitting beside his sister.

'It's ok guys, he's been gone for years.' Said Ronald Weasley, star keeper of the Chudley Cannons, and current goalkeeper for the English national team. 'And contrary to what you all think, I know he's still alive, so no need to treat me as if I'm grieving for him, cause I'm not!' Added Ron, half trying to convince himself of what he just said.

'Well, regardless, I would never have thought Krum'd catch it in his mouth, that was a very clever thing to do', chipped in Virginia Weasley, trying to bring the subject back to the game, knowing how sensitive her brother still was on the matter of Harry Potter.

'Yeah, when both of your arms are broken, I doubt using your mouth to catch the snitch involved a lot of clever thinking', said a muscular looking Neville Longbottom, with a not so disguised hint of sarcasm. It was no secret to anyone that Neville, now barely recognizable from the "well-rounded" and clueless looking form of his Hogwarts years, had more than friendly intentions toward Ginny, his teammate and fellow chaser. Ginny, for her part, seemed to return the feeling. Thus, hearing Ginny complementing Krum was something Neville couldn't let pass without adding his own sarcasm to the complement.

'Bah, cheer up guys; we still managed a tie against the most favoured team of the tournament. That's good enough to guarantee us a spot in the second round!' yelled happily the team's manager, Colin Creevey. Colin also acted as the team's official photographer, a role he has performed admirably, according to the media. Most of the players, however, were beginning to think they'd be losing their eyesight soon, due to the extraordinary amount of camera flashes they have experienced under Colin at the most unexpected times.

Most of the team emitted groans of approval at Colin's last comment, although most also thought that a win would have been even better. After all, one didn't really expect a tie when one's team was up by 150 points and the opposing seeker had both arms broken.

'Well, off you go', started their coach, 'see you at practice in two days.'

And with that, everyone disapparated. Everyone, that is, except Ron. He, as captain, still had to face the press with Colin. Ron slowly strolled toward the pressroom, a feeling of dread building in his stomach. Sure enough, there were a throng of reporters already waiting, and they were merciless. As dozens of camera flashed with blinding intensity, and even more questions shouted from every corner of the room, Ron wondered, not for the first time, how his best and seemingly dead friend managed to put up with all this attention at the age of eleven.

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At the other end of the island of England, a small group of grey cloaked, hooded figures were standing around a forest clearing, in a setting that usually went well with this kind of dark wizard gatherings. However, the clear blue sky, and the merry chipping of the birds in the forest around them lessened the dramatic effect somewhat. A leader-looking figure, soon made his way to the middle of the clearing, and started to speak.

Most present did not understand why the meeting was not held during the night, when there would be less chance of them being seen. However, the reason became apparent several minutes into the leader looking figure's speech: tonight, they will be putting their long awaited plan into motion. A plan that would see the rise of the dark wizards into prominence once more. A plan that they, as the last significant group of dark wizards, have been secretly and quietly working toward for the better part of the past seven years. A plan that was made almost infallible with the recent discovery of an ancient and powerful artefact. In short, the perfect plan to take over the world, and no dark-haired, green-eyed boy around to ruin it.

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Ron Weasley was just about to get up from his seat and leave the press room when a final, unexpected question was thrown his way, by a young and junior looking reporter who obviously didn't know the meaning of the word tact: 'Do you have any news of your friend, Hermione Granger, sir?'

At this, most of the room went silent, sensing great quotable words were about to be spoken. Ron, taken totally off guard by the question, answered honestly that no, he didn't have any news about Hermione. That, in fact, he always kept an eye out for anything that might involve Hermione, but nothing had ever come up.

With that, Ron silently stormed out of the room, not caring what kind of media circus might arise from his innocent statements. However, his mind began, despite his best efforts, to flash back to the day that his old life came to an abrupt halt.

_It was a dark and humid late summer afternoon, the sky was covered by a sea of grey clouds on the verge of pouring their liquid contents on the world below. For Ron (and just about everyone else), a torrent of rain would be a welcoming change from the suffocating heat that, nevertheless, managed to leave one's clothes drenched._

_Hermione had contacted him a few minutes earlier, asking in a monotone voice if Ron wouldn't mind dropping by, managing skilfully to dodge the reason behind this impromptu summoning._

_Of course, it was not as if Ron would ever consider saying no to Hermione regardless of what she asked. Their friendship was already beyond such trivial matters as life and death, much less money or jobs. _Or angry coaches that would probably kick me off the team for missing practice,_ thought Ron as he made his way toward the little and modest flat that was Hermione's home for the past few months. _

_Ever since Harry's apparent death a couple weeks earlier, Hermione had been living like a hermit, coming out only for the barest of necessities._ Harry's death must have been harder on her, _mused Ron as he raised his hand to knock at the front door. _Must be a girl thing, _was Ron's last thought before the door opened to a normal looking Hermione. Ron had expected to find her in a state of complete disarray, and was glad to see she had at least taken care of herself well enough. Without a word, she dragged him inside and quickly slammed the door shut.___

_'I'm leaving', was all she said as way of greeting.___

_'Huh… where? When? How long will you be gone?' Ron replied, feeling a bit betrayed that she'd leave him alone to deal with the aftermath of all that had transpired during the past few weeks.___

_As if she knew exactly how Ron felt, Hermione simply said: 'Ron, I'm sorry if this leaves you in an awkward situation…' And then, as if reciting from a prepared speech, she quickly continued, 'I've had it with all this Dark Lord mess, Ron. When I went to Hogwarts, I never expected that my life would be turned upside down like this. And I certainly didn't expect the wizarding world to be so full of darkness. And when Harry was gone…' here, her voiced cracked, and she paused for a long while, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. _

_Finally, she continued: ' When Harry left, that was the last straw for me. I can't take it anymore. I'm leaving this lonely world behind…forever.' Hermione spoke the last word with a finality that left no room for argument. _

_But Ron, being Ron, nevertheless pleaded with her to stay, invoking reasons ranging from all the friends she will be leaving behind, all the way down to how the media will only have him to focus on if she was not with him.___

_Finally, after much yelling and even more subdued shouting, Ron gave Hermione a silent hug that managed to convey what mere words could not. They held on to each other for what seemed like hours, and when they finally pulled apart, Ron saw that Hermione's eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. He absently wondered, not for the last time, what is it with girls and tears, even though, unbeknownst to him, his own eyes were damp and full of sorrow. _

_They then talked long into the night, reminiscing about a time when everything was much simpler, and more joyful. Even the tales of their dark adventures with Harry during all their Hogwarts years seemed to bring back happy memories. Because, now, Harry was gone, and they both knew that after tonight, that memorable chapter of their life would come to an irreversible end.___

_Much later that night, Ron slowly made his way toward the exit to Hermione's flat for what he thought would be the last time. As he pulled the door open, a feeling of loneliness and despair washed over him, for he finally realized how truly alone he would now become. And with that thought, he slowly turned his head around, letting his eyes lock hungrily with those of his remaining best friend of more than seven years. Outside, the first raindrops charged down the night sky for what promised to be a drenching shower. _

_Looking into those familiar chocolate brown eyes full of sadness and resignation, Ron slowly opened his mouth, trying to bring himself to confess the secret feelings of love he had harboured for her for the past few years, but then, as always, his courage failed him, and his mouth closed of its own accord. _

_Suddenly, a flash of lightning arced across the night sky, illuminating Ron and Hermione for a brief instant. And within that instant, Ron caught the faintest glimmer of hope in the turbulent sea of emotions that was contained within those brown orbs of his friend. But as quickly as the flash in the sky, the glimmer faded away, leaving Ron thinking he must have imagined the whole thing. _

_And with a final, silent nod to convey the farewell wishes he could not bring himself to say, Ron tore his gaze away from Hermione's, speeding away from the house as fast as he could for reasons he did not even know.___

Ron apparated in front of the Burrow, memories of Hermione still fresh in his head. It was a clear and sunny day outside, with a gentle breeze and some fluffy white clouds up in the sky.

_What a difference to the day Hermione left_, thought Ron as he stepped into the only home he'd ever known. Fresh with the memories of his adolescent life, Ron quickly scanned the familiar surroundings and smiled despite himself. It would seem that, no matter how the world outside of it changed, the Burrow would remain stubbornly the same, as if defying forever the trends of change and, now more obviously than ever, the Law of Gravity.

Ginny and Neville were sitting in the kitchen, chatting amicably about the next game they would play. Ron angrily cleared his throat, for, while they were talking, his sister and Neville's faces were drifting way too close for his liking. Ginny, looking up, smiled knowingly at his older brother; for, while Ron automatically hated anyone who dared to try getting close to Ginny, Neville didn't seem to have irked Ron as much as the others have. Ginny took that as a sign that his brother was, in his own way, approving of her latest choice.

'Percy called in from the Ministry just a while back', Ginny said quickly, not giving Ron the chance to comment on her and Neville. 'He wanted to talk to you about something, said it was important…'

Since Ron was the last remaining member of the famous Hogwarts Trio, and somewhat of a hero during the Second Voldemort War, he was regularly called upon to perform auror related duties for the ministry, both as a favour for his brother, and because his reputation and actual skill usually made the situation much easier to handle than they would normally have been.

Ron normally didn't mind the extra work, as it kept his duelling skills horned, and he had even used it as an excuse quite a few times to get himself out of a few boring or awkward situations. However, he was not about to confess his semi-liking of the extra job to anyone.

'Important my eye! Last time he asked me to look into something important, I stood up my date for some silly illegal flying carpets', complained Ron, although Ginny suspected that Ron had not been all that displeased to get away from his date that particular time.

'Percy seemed genuinely worried this time. He gave me the impression that this is something big', offered Ginny, knowing she could always count on her brother's new born curiosity to convince Ron to look further into this matter. She was actually quite curious about this mysterious affair herself, but she, unlike Ron, didn't have as much security clearance with the ministry to be trusted with the top-secret issues that this case seemed to be.

'Oh well, better look into it then', said Ron enthusiastically, all pretence of disinterest forgotten. As Ron cheerfully prepared to leave the Burrow for the ministry, Ginny absently thought about how his brother had, over the years, picked up quite an appetite for abnormal adventures.

It all started with the _small_ requests from the ministry about looking into some suspected Death Eater activities, as Ron was arguably the most qualified living expert about them. And at that time, Ron, having been deserted by his two closest friends, didn't seem to think his own life was all that precious, and eagerly agreed to any mission that might get him killed.

The Weasley clan was extremely alarmed by it, and eventually convinced Ron to not be so reckless and take on a normal job, which he did, as a quidditch reserve keeper. However, Ron seemed to have kept his craving for dangerous adventures, usually involving a lot of duels, mysterious artefacts, and such.

Eventually, Ron had worked (quite unintentionally, he would tell you) his way up the ministry ladder (despite not being an official employee of the ministry), and was currently hailed (secretly) as one of the top agents of the ministry.

She supposed that this whole agent and adventure business was Ron's way of compensating for the loss of his two best friends, and all the fun they have had together. However, she also put together a much more logical reason behind her brother's new found obsession with the oddities of the world, a reason that, perhaps, her dear brother did not even consciously thought about. For she and Ron both remember that, not so long a go, in a castle full of ghosts and moving stairs, a certain famous dark haired boy would always be involved in some unusual happening or other. Thus, by keeping an eye on the mysteries occurring around the globe, Ron was, subconsciously, hoping against hope to catch any possible news concerning his seemingly departed best friend.

'Well, I'm going to talk to that good for nothing brother of ours', said Ron good naturedly, 'Don't do anything irresponsible!' That last comment being mostly directed at Neville. And with a pop, Ron disapparated.

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Ron apparated in front of his older brother's office (nobody can apparate directly in the Minister of Magic's office, of course) and informed the receptionist of his arrival. He was led into Percy's office soon after, past the imposing and stoic aurors that stood guard on either side of the even more imposing office entrance. Ron was, as he has done each time he went into Percy's office, absentmindedly analyzing his chances of taking both guards down should he ever feel the urge to kick his brother's butt.

Deep down, Ron has never truly forgiven Percy for what he did to the family and to Harry during their fifth year at Hogwarts. And although Percy had later redeemed himself by saving Harry's life at the risk of his own, Ron still hold a tiny grudge, no matter how exemplary of a good man Percy has recently become. It was often said that, had Percy not experienced first hand the consequences of being a power hungry wizard willing to serve any without regard to loyalty or principles, he would never have recanted as much as he did, and consequently never been able to become the virtuous man who's admirable behaviour allowed him to be voted as the youngest Minister of Magic in England's history.

And even Ron can recognize that Percy was doing a fantastic job at regulating the going-ons of the wizarding England, all the while not letting the power getting to his head in the process. Thus, it was with a warm smile that Ron trudged into the gigantic office of the Minister of Magic, a smile that quickly vanished as he saw the look on his brother's face.

'Bad news Ron, I'm afraid', said Percy without the usual pleasantries. 'We have just learned, from a reliable source, that there might be a group of dark wizards calling themselves the Death Eater Remnants, and worst of all', here, Percy took a pause for dramatic effect. 'They seem to be led by none other than Lucius Malfoy!'

'Do you have proof of this? I'd love to go and arrest Malfoy… and even better if he tries to resist!' Replied Ron, hoping against hope that he can finally settle an old score.

'I'm sorry, Ron. There is no concrete proof yet. But this information came directly from THE source', replied Percy meaningfully. Ron knew exactly what Percy meant by "THE" source.

Someone has been anonymously owling tips and information on dark wizard activities to the ministry for the better part of three years. At first, nobody took the tips seriously, as there were many pranksters that just didn't know how far was too far. But soon, after the first few tips had become true, the ministry has started to pay more attention to information from the particular source.

Eventually, that source became the single most reliable informant in the ministry, and has simply come to be known as "THE" source. Sometimes, Ron couldn't help but suspect that one of his missing friends was actually behind it.

'Well, what was so urgent then?' asked Ron, puzzled. 'I hardly think some unproved conspiracy theory was all that pressing, even if it did involve the Malfoys.'

'Eh, actually, the urgent information concerns a totally unrelated matter', started Percy, unsure how to inform his younger brother of the news. 'Now, Ron, don't get your hopes up too much… but we have received unconfirmed reports of sightings of your old friend…'

'What, Harry is back?' interrupted Ron, almost shouting. 'When? Where, How? Why didn't you tell me sooner??'

'No no no, you misunderstood me', Percy quickly replied. 'I was talking about your other best friend, Hermione Granger.'

'Oh…' Ron said, disappointed that it wasn't Harry. Then, he suddenly realized who Percy just said and went on another rampage, demanding even more information than during his first barrage of questions.

Percy remained calm and tried to answer his little brother's questions as best as he could, which was not a lot, considering he himself didn't know anything more.

'Most of the sightings are in London', said Percy. 'Although there is this lonely old wizard near York who swore to us he saw her bathing naked in his back yard. Then again, he also swore he saw an angel chasing a cuckoo bird a couple of years back…'

Ron proceeded to grill Percy with even more questions about the sightings. Finally, as Percy didn't have any more information to give and was growing tired of trying to convince Ron of that fact, he simply gave Ron the list of people who reported the sightings. Percy was still contemplating how to politely ask Ron to leave his office when he realized that Ron had already taken off; right after receiving the list of people who claimed to have seen Hermione.


	3. The Returns

Chapter 2: The Returns

It was a bright, clear mid-autumn night, with the moon pouring silver rays of radiance upon the tranquil world below. On a small island called England, in a narrow alley directly facing what appeared to be an imposing and important building of the city of London, a solitary figure was contemplating how to best make its imminent return to the magical world it had left behind seven years ago.

'A world that has shown me nothing but pain and sorrow', thought the figure bitterly. 'Why should I even bother mixing myself with them again?' As the figure stood silently in the alley, pondering on this last statement, a group of black clad men began to rush toward the building across the street.

'Hmm… just as I suspected', thought the figure half-heartedly. After a moment of pause in which the figure seemed to be hesitating on its next course of action, the figure finally pulled out a silvery piece of cloth from seemingly nowhere. With the invisibility cloak in hand, the figure cautiously started to make its way toward the building as well.

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Roger Davies, former Ravenclaw quidditch team captain, and currently leader of a team of ministry aurors assigned to guard a precious and fabled artefact uncovered just months ago, was looking at his team with almost parental fondness, even though he was only in his mid twenties. In front of him was possibly the weirdest security team ever assembled: a group of specialized wizards holding wands in their hands, and a bunch of muggles with some type of metallic contraption strapped in a holster at the waist; the two mismatched group were currently chatting amiably amongst themselves in an almost brotherly fashion. Its sights like these that made Roger think back, for perhaps the millionth time, to the series of events that led to his present situation.

A few months ago, a team of muggle scientists uncovered a legendary artefact that, up till now, was thought to have been lost forever. The news of the artefact's discovery had spread so fast and wide, that, by the time the ministry of magic got wind of it, there was no possible way to keep the discovery quiet short of memory charming every muggle in the world.

The muggles had been quick to put the artefact on display, for it was a legendary object in both the wizarding and muggle worlds, and an extraordinary amount of England's mythical history was based on it. However, the muggles knew little about the magical powers of the object they had uncovered, and even less about the destruction and horrors that the object could bring about, should it fall into the wrong hands.

Thus, after much convincing and even more negotiating, the muggle prime minister and the Minister of Magic finally agreed to set up a special security team to guard the artefact, as the muggles flatly refused to hand over the object to the Department of Mysteries for safekeeping, and the wizards could hardly leave such a powerful artefact under the protection of unsuspecting muggle guards.

And thus, Roger Davies and his team of aurors were dispatched to guard the relic, along with a specialized team of muggle guards that, as Roger has often heard, were called the "secret service". So far, both teams seemed to work well together, and efficiently thwarted a few non-magical thieves in their attempt to steal the prized object.

Roger was actually starting to get bored from his current assignment. It seemed that, although there are plenty of muggle folks seeking to steal the relic, no wizard or witch has yet made an attempt on the precious antique.

'Why even bother,' thought Davies as he stared blankly down an empty hallway of the Royal British Museum, where the artefact was on display. 'It's not like there are any dark wizards left after the Battle of Hogwarts. Even if there are, I really doubt they can organize themselves efficiently enough to take on thirty ministry aurors, ha!'

With that comforting thought in mind, Roger Davies headed back toward his team's headquarters, located just outside the artefact's display room.

Behind him, a dark figure silently followed, hidden from the naked eye by an invisibility cloak.

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Lucius Malfoy smiled evilly underneath his invisibility cloak. Everything was going according to plan. All the aurors (especially the idiotic looking team leader in front of him, thought Lucius) seemed to have their guard down lately, a fact that Malfoy summarized was mainly due to the lack of dark activity for the past seven years; but little did the aurors know that their false sense of security was instilled in them by Lucius himself. For he had, throughout the years, held what's left of the Death Eaters in check, and secretly built up an army to execute a plan that was guaranteed to bring them victory, a plan that he himself had formulated shortly after the fall of the Dark Lord.

And tonight, the first phase of that plan will be brought about. Soon, Lucius thought, the humiliating years spent hiding away as a fugitive and the trying times of patient waiting he had to endure will finally pay off. With that comforting thought in mind, Lucius continued to follow the unsuspecting auror back toward the display room, with, if possible, even more stealth than before.

Unbeknownst to him, another dark figure silently followed behind, hidden from the naked eye by yet another invisibility cloak.

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Roger Davies was sitting comfortably in his chair, dozing off slightly after the nice cup of warm milk he had minutes before. This was his off shift for the night, and, because he thought he was a very efficient auror, he would make sure he would sleep through every minute of his break. To that end, he had slipped a few drops of a sleeping draught into his milk. 'Nothing like a good efficient sleep', was his last thought as his mind drifted into the land of dreams.

'Attack, now!' came the voice of Lucius out of thin air. In seemingly (and quite possibly) pre-choreographed synchronism, twenty Death Eaters simultaneously cast the stunning spell from the safety of their invisibility cloaks, each targeting a different auror. All spells hit their mark, and within the flash of an eye, all twenty aurors on duty were lying on the floor, unconscious. All of the off duty aurors not "efficient" enough to have fallen asleep jumped off their chairs and retaliated blindly, with limited success, before they were brought down by stunning spells as well.

Lucius Malfoy slowly removed his invisibility cloak, and, as if that was a pre-determined signal, the remaining hooded figures became visible as well. Malfoy pompously walked past the fallen aurors (and one that was still asleep) toward the artefact display room, thinking all the while that this was too easy…

It was only the faintest movement of a metallic glint that saved Lucius Malfoy from certain death. Reflexively raising a barrier charm when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy heard a loud bang that almost pierced his eardrums immediately after he completed the spell. A bullet bounced off harmlessly against the barrier around Malfoy, as did several other bullets that followed the first one, when the hidden secret service agent saw that his first shot had not effect.

Lucius Malfoy quickly recovered from the shock of hearing such a loud bang, and, realizing that the muggle weapons cannot penetrate his barrier spell, yelled over the repeated gunfire for his fellow Death Eaters to raise the same barrier. Shortly after, all the secret service agents assigned to guard the relic were lying on the floor as well, unconscious.

Lucius slowly walked to the guard who almost killed him, and, as if with a great amount of self-restraint, spat on the man's face and walked away. Malfoy knew that killing anyone tonight would cause a great uproar, and told all his followers to use stunning spells only. After all, a bunch of unconscious aurors would draw far less attention from the ministry than a bunch of dead ones.

Lucius carefully approached the display case in which the artefact was enclosed, as his followers spread out evenly around the room to safeguard against any unexpected threats. A shining plaque just below the transparent display casing read "Excalibur, fabled sword of King Arthur". Lucius smirked sinisterly and was just about to remove the sword from its casing when, several thuds, the unmistakable sounds of a body falling to the ground, were heard behind him. He quickly spun around as the remaining Death Eaters, alerted by the fall of their comrades, were already casting stunning spells at a figure that was completely covered in black.

The figure doubled over for an instant, seemingly overcome by the stunning spells, and then, to all of the Death Eater's confusion and horror, started to change shape in a grotesque fashion. Lucius Malfoy didn't know what was happening, but quickly summarized that the cloaked figure was not with the ministry aurors, and eagerly yelled: 'Avada Kedavra', launching the unblockable killing curse toward the figure. Some of the quicker witted Death Eaters came to the same conclusion as their leader and followed suit with their own killing curse.

By this point, the figure's shape was unrecognizable underneath the cloak, and can barely be described as humanoid. A bright, silver light seemed to start emanating from the figure itself, and, even though the figure was covered with a black cloak, all present can tell that the light was slowly, but surely, increasing in intensity.

The green beam of the first killing curse reached the figure just as the cloak slid off from the unidentifiable form. The silver light, now unobstructed by the cloak, flared in intensity and engulfed the deadly green bolts of the killing curses that were making their way toward the figure, disintegrating them into nothingness as its blinding rays speared outward in every direction.

The figure became so bright that all present could not longer bear to look at it directly, lest they become blind. Even through their closed eyelids, the Death Eaters could still see the bright form of the figure walking toward the Excalibur. Lucius Malfoy, who was standing directly in the figure's path, and realizing that the figure was intent on taking the sword, threw himself onto the approaching form in a last ditch effort to keep the object he came to steal from being stolen by somebody else.

Through his closed eyelids, Lucius could just make out some unidentifiable part of the bright form swing at him, and then, Lucius Malfoy, leader of the Death Eater Remnants, fell into the blissful land of unconsciousness.

The remaining Death Eaters were in a state of shock. This creature before them had resisted not one, but a half dozen killing curses with seemingly no effort at all. When they came out of their stupor and finally realized that the room has become dark once more, the figure, and the sword, were long gone.

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Out at the main entrance to the Excalibur Exhibit Room, the cloaked and invisible figure of Hermione Granger stood agape at what she had just witnessed. She had followed Lucius Malfoy from her alleyway all way to the Excalibur display room, using a magical pair of glasses to see through the invisibility cloaks, hoping to somehow steal the Excalibur back from the Death Eaters after Lucius stole it from the display room.

She, like the Death Eaters inside, has seen the way the creature has shrugged off the killing curses without effort. But, contrary to the Death Eaters inside, she had the presence of mind to cast a spell on her glasses, one usually used by wizards and witches to shield their eyes when observing solar eclipses. Thus, she was able to see very clearly the creature that just stole the Excalibur. And, for perhaps only the second time in her life, Hermione Granger could not comprehend what she just saw.

  


  
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	4. Ronald Weasley, Detective Extraordinaire

Chapter 3: Ron Weasley, Detective Extraordinaire

'What? How can this happen?!?!' bellowed Percy Ignatius Weasley, the youngest Minister of Magic in England's history. 'How many of them were there?' he added, in a calmer voice, seemingly regaining his composure in a flash. After all, one was not Minister of Magic without seeing his fare share of heart stopping events. And to Percy, this event seemed to have the most potential at stopping his heart than any other he'd faced during his short and peaceful stint as Minister.

'Well, sir, according to the guards, the thieves were all wearing invisibility cloaks, so they aren't sure how many. But most aurors present estimate the thieves to number around fifteen to twenty five. All aurors report that they got stunned before they can mount a serious defence', replied his aide hurriedly, seemingly hoping his boss would suffer from temporary idiocy and not ask for more details.

'What? Just like that? Wasn't there charms, wards, and whatever pass for security measures those muggles have all around the Excalibur?' Percy asked, quite frustrated but not knowing where to vent the anger.

'Well, Yes... But apparently, the wards were somehow disabled. The aurors think it was either sabotage, or just really clever ward breakers at work. Either way, the aurors suspect somebody informed the thieves of where the wards were located', replied the aide, in a monotone voice quite similar to that of newscast. 'The auror team leader, a certain captain Roger Davies, reports that he was able to recover from the stunning spell in time to witness a group of masked men in Death Eater looking attire carrying a few of their unconscious comrades out from the display room and fleeing the scene.'

'Hmmm… This is worrisome news indeed. We've also got a report of renewed Death Eater activity from THE source. It appears that the Death Eaters are indeed making a come back.' Here, Percy took a deep sigh. 'Did this auror captain see any of the Death Eaters faces?' Percy asked, not really expecting a positive answer.

'No sir, he did not. Captain Davies said they were all wearing masks.' Replied the aide. 'The auror leadership has already dispatched a full squad of investigators to the scene, sir. They said they will report back as soon as anything comes up.'

'Hmmm…' mused Percy, stroking his beardless chin in thought. Had it been another day, the aide would have found the gesture highly amusing. After a while of comfortable silence (for the aide was used to wait around while his boss was contemplating some problem or other), Percy finally said out loud, more to himself than to the aide: 'I doubt the aurors will find anything. If this theft was the act of the Death Eaters, then they must have planned it to perfection. We must assume that the Death Eaters are now in possession of the most powerful magical artefact in the world. This is really bad news…' Percy trailed off, not ready to think about the host of destructive catastrophes the dark wizards were now capable of performing. Suddenly, as if a candle just lit up above his head, Percy turned to the aide and said pompously: 'I know exactly what to do. Please have my brother come immediately.'

'Eh… which one, sir?' the aide asked, a bit scared by his boss's new attitude.

'Well, how many brothers do I have that defeated a Dark Lord?' replied Percy, with a twinkle in his eyes, apparently ready to start a brilliant plan to bring down the dark forces.

-------

'What? Your blasted brilliant plan is to have me handle this case?' asked Ron, incredulous.

'Why yes, dear brother of mine. I daresay your success record in investigating dark activities speaks for itself. After all, you've thwarted Voldemort himself no less than six times!' Replied Percy calmly, knowing he was threading on a delicate subject for his brother. For most, if not all, of Ron's major victories over dark wizards were accomplished in the presence of his two best, and departed, friends.

'I did all those things with Harry and Hermione, you bumbling git!' said Ron angrily. 'It was always them who worked out the puzzle. In fact, it was always Hermione who solved all the mysteries, remember!?!' added Ron, now a hint of sadness in his otherwise still angry voice. He then closed his eyes and started to take deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm himself. When Ron spoke again, all traces of anger were gone, leaving only a sorrowful voice behind: 'Percy, I finally have a lead to find Hermione, and that's what I want to do now. Why did you even ask me here? You know I am no good at solving anything, especially not an important theft case like this.'

'Yeah, I know Ron. But you are the best agent I've got. And with apparently a traitor in the auror's ranks, you are the only one I can fully trust.' Replied Percy, in what he hoped was a consoling voice. 'Look Ron, you're the only person I dare to send against a band of dark wizards alone, because I know you will win through. If I send someone else, I might very well be sending him to his death. There is no one more qualified than you for this job. And I understand about Hermione, believe me, I do. That's why I will ask some of my own auror guards to go look for Hermione in your stead. What do you say, brother?' Percy finished, locking eyes with his younger brother, hoping to convey the sincerity of his words to Ron.

'Eh, I don't know Percy…' hesitated Ron, unsure if he trusted the search for Hermione to anyone else but himself. _Then again_, thought Ron, _I am not the smartest guy around. Maybe it's best if someone else tries to find Hermione, especially if she is trying to remain hidden from the wizarding world. She'd recognize me from a mile away, but not some stranger she'd never met._ With that brilliant conclusion in mind, Ron decided to accept Percy's latest job assignment. However, he was not about to consent without trying to squeeze as much benefit as he can out of Percy. With a voice that Ron hoped sounded strained, he said: 'Well, I don't know Percy. You guys all think I'm like this invincible dark wizard catcher, but I think my luck will run out sooner than later if you keep sending me on these missions, especially if Death Eaters are involved. What if I kick the bucket this time, Percy? And to think I haven't even tasted half of this world's food!' Ron finished with what he thought was a dramatic outcry. However, Percy knew exactly what his brother was up to, and chuckled slightly to himself, finding it highly amusing that Ron would use something as serious as his own death to blackmail people into giving him food. _Then again_, thought Percy, _for Ron, food is a matter of life and death_. With that disturbing thought in mind (for Percy couldn't even begin to fathom how someone can love food that much) Percy decided to play along with his brother's wishes. 'Well, if you put it that way', began Percy, trying not to let a smile creep onto his face, 'I will arrange for you to get a different dish every day of the week for the next year. Consider it a perk for taking on this dangerous job. That is, of course, if you accept this assignment.'

'Ok then, I accept.' Said an excited Ron, already starting to make his way out of Percy's office. 'Don't forget to send people to look for Hermione!'

'Eh, Ron, aren't you forgetting something?' asked Percy hurriedly before his brother went out of earshot.

'What?' retorted Ron, now almost out of the giant office's entrance.

'Um, don't you want to know where the Excalibur was stolen from before you start your investigation?' asked Percy, starting to doubt if he made the right choice by putting his not so quick witted brother on this important case.

'Oh yeah, that'd be good.' Replied Ron sheepishly, a little embarrassed that he didn't even bother asking for any more information before leaving so hurriedly.

-------

Lucius Malfoy sat in a giant armchair, in front of a giant fireplace, within the giant, secret, underground cave located below his giant manor. The manor itself was now occupied by his son, as Lucius was a fugitive wanted by the entire wizarding world.

The underground cave was not all that uncomfortable anyway. For Lucius, holder of many dark secrets since a very early stage of his life, always knew that it might, one day come to a point where he had to hide from the law. Thus, in typical Slytherin efficiency, he ordered the digging and furnishing of the underground cave during the first rise of the Dark Lord, when finding silent partners in crime and disposing of babbling construction workers were things easily accomplished. When all was said and done, the underground cave was barely recognizable. Where once there was but stone and earth, the cave now resembled some magnificently decorated, cavernous hall that a king of old might have once reined his empire from. Large stone pillars, richly engraved with intricate pictures describing some glorious period of dark wizard history or other, rose to the ceiling of the cave, located at least four stories high from the cave's ground. Bright, silvery torches were spaced out evenly along the walls of the cave, though a magical golden light emanated from the centre of the cave's ceiling, basking the hall below with its comforting rays of simulated sunlight. The cave itself was quite large, rivalling, perhaps, the great hall of Hogwarts in size, though the cave was round in shape. Expensive furniture were scattered here and there, providing the cave's inhabitants with all the necessities of a lavish life. In sum, the secret underground cave was a place many in the world could only dream of living in.

Malfoy Sr., glass of rum in hand and completely ignoring the exquisite comfort he lived in, was silently sulking away at the failed operation of the previous night. Already, some of the newer members of his rag-tag group of Death Eaters were voicing their displeasure against him. Some are even calling for a change in leadership. Malfoy sighed heavily at that thought. In the old days, dissention like these would never have even taken place. But he, Lucius Malfoy, unlike the Dark Lord before him, did not possess the tremendous magical powers that kept the Death Eaters in check. He, Lucius Malfoy, could never inspire fear, awe, and loyalty at the same time amongst his army like the Dark Lord use to do. In fact, the only two things holding his band of dark wizards together was a common dislike for muggles and mudbloods, and the promise of power that Lucius's plan pledged to bring about. But now, with the failure of the very first stage of that plan, one of the only two reasons for the group to remain together was gone. Once again, Lucius sighed heavily, his mind turning to the series of events that led to the failure of his carefully planned scheme.

It had started well. The wards guarding the museum and that might have alerted the guards to the presence of intruders were safely disabled by a contact within the guards. All had gone according to plan as the aurors fell easily before the carefully coordinated and intricately planned attacks of his Death Eaters outside the main entrance to the Excalibur's display room. Not have given much thought to muggles (except on ways of disposing of them) in his life, Lucius did not count on the dangerous resistance put up by the muggle guards. In fact, Lucius Malfoy, in his great arrogance toward all muggles, didn't even consider than there might have been anything but wizards and witches guarding a precious magical artefact. It had been pure coincidence that the particular barrier charm he had put up was able to deflect the muggle weapons, essentially rendering all muggle guards powerless from a distance. Some of the guards had tried to rush Lucius and his Death Eaters in hopes of getting close enough to force them into hand-to-hand combat. But those were quickly brought down by the stunning spells of his efficient and alert team of dark wizards, trained, for a rare time in dark wizard history, to work with, and not despite, each other. Once all signs of resistance had died away, Lucius himself quickly rushed to the Excalibur and was just about to take it out of its display casing when someone, or something, attacked his Death Eaters from behind. According to the Death Eaters who were knocked out, they appeared to have experienced the usual symptoms and sensations of a stunning spell, suggesting that the attacker was a wizard. The person, or thing, seemed to have gone through some kind of metamorphosis after that point, and somehow brush off seven killing curses before knocking Lucius unconscious. Lucius vividly remembered the contact to be almost soft at first, before becoming very hard. According to the Death Eaters who still had enough wits to have vaguely been aware of the events occurring in front of their very eyes (though Lucius knew they all had their eyes closed by that point due to the blinding light), the creature appeared to have fumbled around the Excalibur display case quite a long time (relative to the total of fifteen seconds or so it had spent on knocking two Death Eaters and Lucius out), and suddenly disappeared, leaving only the unconscious Death Eaters and a nasty bruise on Lucius's right temple as marks of his passage.

Lucius carefully considered this information as he silently stared into the dying flames of the majestic fireplace he was sitting in front of. It suddenly occurred to him that the figure had been using normal stunning spells prior to its metamorphosis, and none after. Brushing absently the bruise on his right temple, Lucius deemed that the figure had resorted to some rather barbaric methods to dispose of its enemies after its transformation. _Barbaric, or, animalistic_, thought Lucius, with a grim satisfaction in his eyes. It would appear that it was a wizard (or witch, for Lucius, as he would proudly tell you, wasn't discriminatory in that way) who attacked the Death Eaters. And it would also appear that the wizard was an animagus, though the nature of the animal still escapes Lucius at the moment, for he could not recall any creature, magical or not, that can withstand an unblockable killing curse. _Well, not entirely unblockable_, thought Lucius darkly, thinking back to a certain scar headed boy. _Though the ancient magic used to block the killing curse would require another to die in the intended victim's stead. And the curse would have rebounded on me if that particular magic was used._ Reflected Lucius more carefully. _Well, whoever the wizard was, he is extremely powerful_, contemplated Lucius, dismissing the wizard's blocking of the killing curse for later analysis. _And a powerful wizard never acts without a good reason_, continued Lucius, deep in thought. _But, of course, there can be a great deal of reasons a powerful wizard would want the Excalibur… And all of them would result in attracting a tremendous amount of attention to the sword's wielder!_ Realized Malfoy._ It would be a piece of cake to track the man down once he starts using the sword in any significant way. And then, we can corner and convince him into either joining us or giving up the Excalibur…_thought Lucius darkly, a murderous glint in his piecing grey eyes. It was obvious that the 'giving up the sword' part of his plan involved a great amount of pain and would end in death. However, Lucius was no fool, and knew he would have to confer with his fellow Death Eaters in finding a way to kill something that can resist the killing curse. Already, Lucius Malfoy's sinister but brilliant mind started to cycle through the hundreds of killing methods he had become familiar with over the years, each more horrendous than the previous.

-------

Ronald Weasley arrived at the Royal British Museum shortly after his exotic but delicious Egyptian lunch. The jovial autumn wind, warmed by the sun since the start of the day, softly caressed his exposed face in a way that made him wish he was on his broomstick, flying carelessly across the clear sky, rather than being stuck on an investigation that he was certain he couldn't possibly solve.

A ministry auror, easily discernable by her out of fashion muggle clothing, was waiting at the museum's entrance, trying hard to not get noticed, and obviously failing miserably. Ron, not being in touch with the muggle world since Hermione's departure, was the only one entering the museum that didn't notice the auror's suspicious attire. However, as Ronald Weasley's face had become well known throughout the wizarding world both as a hero against the forces of Voldemort and as an exceptional quidditch keeper, the auror was able to recognize Ron instantly, and reverently yelled out: 'Mr. Weasley! Over here!'

Ron, by now used to strangers calling out his name out of nowhere, made his way to the auror. It was obvious that the ministry auror was enamoured with Ron, as her eyes seemed to have glazed over, and her expression was that of open adoration. Ron stood in front of her and finally, after a few minutes in which the auror simply stared at him with a dreamy expression in her eyes, cleared his throat. The witch shook her head slightly, as if snapping out of some blissful reverie, blushed furiously, and, avoiding Ron's gaze, timidly said: 'M-M-Mr. Weasley! Your brother, eh, I mean, the Minister of Magic has already notified the Department of Magical Law Enforcement about your involvement in this investigation. I've been assigned by my superiors to be your auror attachée. May I say it is really an honour to work with you, sir!' The last part was said with such ease compared to the rest of her words that Ron was sure there had to be a mandatory class dedicated to the practice of saying that sentence at the ministry. Nevertheless, Ron was grateful to have another person with him during his investigation, as he was almost certain that he would miss some extremely obvious clues otherwise.

'I am also honoured to have you as a partner', Ron replied sincerely. 'But, eh, do you think you can tell me your name before we start the investigation?'

'Oh, right!' Said the auror, apparently extremely embarrassed that in all her excitement at meeting the object of her affection, she had actually forgotten to give him her name. 'I am Valerie Green; I first went Hogwarts during your third year! I was in Ravenclaw!' She finished enthusiastically.

Ron didn't have the heart to tell her that he rarely paid attention to anyone from Ravenclaw, and that he personally thought that they were all a bunch of know-it-alls, and that he's had enough dealings with a certain know-it-all to last him a lifetime.

'I think one of my commanders is waiting for us inside.' She continued.

Ron nodded, and they walked into the cavernous halls of the Royal British Museum side by side, attracting incredulous and amused stares all the way to what was once the Excalibur Exhibit Room. The room had been cordoned off by muggle security, but Ron and Valerie passed without problems.

From a distance, Ron could already make out the voices of two people shouting angrily at one another.

'… knew it was a mistake letting you weird people guard the sword', roared one of the voices. 'You probably had this whole thing planned from the beginning, didn't you? We all knew that you guys wanted to keep the sword for yourselves! Your minister said as much during the meetings, don't you dare deny it!'

'Well, I suppose your people fared far better than our aurors, seeing as how your crazy contraptions can't even make a dent in a simple barrier spell!' Replied the second voice heatedly. 'And don't you dare accuse us of setting up this theft. Believe me, if the ministry wanted to steal the sword, you won't even remember we wanted the sword for safekeeping in the first place! We'd have memory charmed the whole lot of you!'

'Are you threatening me, Shacklebolt!?!?' Defied the first voice eagerly, clearly hoping the answer would be 'yes'.

At this point, Ron and Valerie have reached the origin of the voices. One of the voices belonged to Kingsley Shacklebolt, a veteran auror of the Second War. The other voice belonged to an angry looking muggle, who Ron summarized must hold a fairly senior position in whatever security organization the muggles have. Many aurors and muggle-looking uniformed men were milling about, taking samples or waving a scanning spell around something or other, clearly trying to gather as much information from the crime scene as it was possible. At Ron and Valerie's entrance into the former exhibit room, the two men stopped staring daggers at each other and turned to look at the newcomers. Shacklebolt's expression changed from a scowl to a smile at the sight of Ron, while the other man rolled his eyes and let out what was unmistakably an exasperated sigh.

'Professor Shacklebolt!' exclaimed Ron, glad to see his 7th year Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher alive and well. 'Nice to see you again.'

'Commander Shacklebolt!' Ron heard Valerie call out next to him. 'I am Valerie Green, auror 2nd class, here as per orders from the auror leadership to act as liaison between the aurors and Mr. Weasley.' As Valerie said this, she handed some official looking parchment, obviously some kind of auror identification, to Shacklebolt, who quickly waved his wand over the paper while muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Satisfied, Kingsley handed the paper back to Valerie.

'More of your useless hit wizards?' said the muggle man, contempt drooling all over his words.

Kingsley Shacklebolt frowned slightly at this, not because of the obvious insult, but because the words held some grains of truth to them. _Well, if I am totally honest with myself, it would be more like a giant rock of truth._ Thought Kingsley sadly. Kingsley desolately remembered that he was one of only a handful of senior aurors that survived the Second War. Consequently, all the surviving senior aurors, such as himself, now held top positions within the auror leadership, while the middle and bottom positions of the hierarchy were filled by fresh out of school kids, such as Roger Davies and Valerie. All in all, Kingsley knew the aurors were no where near as formidable as they use to be at the prime of their days, and that many years will pass before they could return to their former glory. Most of the erratic dark activities of the past few years were handled by special agents of the ministry, such as Ron, or sometimes by a senior auror tired of sitting behind a desk doing nothing but paperwork. This was the first major test for the newly reconstructed auror ranks, and to Shacklebolt, they have failed miserably. As there were no major dark wizard activities up till now, the ineptitude of the auror cadre hasn't really been an issue. But now…

'Mr. Shacklebolt, are you ok?'

The concerned voice of Ronald Weasley startled Kingsley out of his reverie. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking back to the old days that you remind me of.' Lied Shacklebolt, not wishing to admit to his muggle counterpart that his insulting assessment of auror usefulness might be close to the truth.

'Ron, this is Mr. Zed, he's my counterpart from the muggle secret services.' Continued the venerable auror. 'Mr. Zed, this is Ronald Weasley, one of our top agents. He was part of that famous trio that brought down Voldemort. You remember Voldemort, right?' finished Kingsley, knowing full well that his counterpart did indeed remember Voldemort, and hoping that those memories of the dark lord would make Mr. Zed show a bit more respect toward Ron. However, his hopes were dashed by Ron's next few words.

'Zed, that's an unusual name. What part of the world are you from, Mr. Zed?' asked Ron, innocently hoping to start a polite conversation.

'Zed is my codename, you dimwit!' Replied Mr. Zed angrily. 'That's 'Z', you know, the last letter of the alphabet?' turning to Shacklebolt, he continued: 'Really, is this the best you've got at your ministry? No wonder a lunatic like Voldemort was able to take over so easily. You're all a bunch of…'

'Mr. Zed', interjected Valerie before the muggle was able to finish his sentence. 'Mr. Weasley is simply unfamiliar with the way you non-magical folks name their people. As I'm sure you are unfamiliar with the way we wizards name ourselves. It's simply a case of cultural ignorance, and nothing else. I've heard Mr. Weasley here once took down five dark wizards by himself with nothing but his wand and his wits, and I seem to recall that your own security forces weren't even able to injure a single dark wizard last night. So please think about who you're calling dimwitted before you speak.'

Mr. Zed was a bit taken aback by Valerie's statement, as was Ron, who never heard anyone present arguments in such a non-sense yet logical fashion since Hermione. Shacklebolt, used to weird teenagers saying crazy yet sensible things (from his experience with the famous trio), wasn't all that surprised.

'Perhaps it would be best if we update Mr. Weasley what we've gathered so far.' Cut in Kingsley before Mr. Zed had time to recover and launch into another round of derogatory comments. 'Ron, here is what we know for a fact. Last night, a group of two dozen or so Death Eaters silently dismantled all the wards protecting the Excalibur and its surroundings under the guise of invisibility cloaks. They then took down all the auror guards using stunning spells, before charging into this very room. Mr. Zed told me that his men tried to take down the Death Eaters with their muggle designed weapons, but the Death Eaters seemed to be impervious to their attack and knocked out all of our fellow muggle guards, once again, with stunning spells. Mr. Zed told me that all of their surveillance devices went offline, and we both think it was due to high concentration of magical energy, so the muggles don't know what happened after that. But from what our experts can gather, there were several killing curses being fired in this room last night, for some reason. As well, we've been able to determine that the Excalibur's glass casing was broken through using physical means, rather than magical. And finally, judging by the dispersal pattern of the shattered glass pieces on the floor, we think someone was laying on the floor near the sword when the casing was broken.' Here, Shacklebolt took a pause, giving Ron time to digest what he just said. After a moment of silence in which all four people seem to be contemplating (or recontemplating) the information just presented, Kingsley softly asked: 'I assume you've already been briefed about Captain Davies' testimony?'

'Yeah. He said several of the Death Eaters were unconscious and being carried out by the others. Which is kind of strange, as Death Eaters usually just leave their fallen behind. Also, why do you think they used stunning spells only instead of killing curses? This doesn't seem like normal Death Eater behaviour to me.' Concluded Ron, deep in thought.

'Yes, I was thinking about that as well', stated Kingsley. 'I think there can be only two possible explanations for this. One, we are dealing with a bunch of fake Death Eaters, who might want to steal the sword and put the blame on the real Death Eaters so we go follow the wrong track. Or, we are dealing with real Death Eaters and they want to draw as little attention to them as possible. You and I know fully well that had the guards all been killed, the ministry will launch a full out crack down on anyone even remotely related to a suspected Death Eater.'

'From what you're saying, it sounds like these Death Eaters are planning something big.' Added Mr. Zed, now fully absorbed in the analysis, all trace of misgivings toward wizards forgotten. 'It is something that we at the secret services often do. If you're planning something big and don't want interference, just do it as quietly as possible.'

'Yeah, but do we know for sure that it was real Death Eaters here, last night?' Chipped in Valerie nervously, a bit intimidated to be in the presence of such formidable company.

'Good point, Ms. Green.' Said Ron politely. 'I also wonder what those killing curses are for, if no one died last night... Maybe those unconscious Death Eaters were actually dead ones? Maybe there was a power struggle of some kind within the Death Eater ranks right here? That might explain about someone laying on the floor close to the casing thingy as well, as it might have been a dead body.'

'Or unconscious one.' Chipped in Mr. Zed, eager to contradict Ron's theory. Ron was just about to retort something not entirely devoid of insults when Valerie cut in to diffuse the tension.

'Do you mind if me and Mr. Weasley take a look around for ourselves?' asked Valerie politely.

'Of course. Feel free to look around.' Said Kingsley good-naturedly. 'But please put on these gloves if you plan on touching anything. Mr. Zed told me that they muggles have some sort of procedure they can use to track down a person using fingerprints, and if you touch anything without wearing gloves, you might disrupt the fingerprints that were already on the object.'

Not really understanding too much about what Shacklebolt just said, Ron simply put on the gloves that the senior auror presented to him and Valerie. They then walked a bit around the exhibit room, with Ron mumbling here and there about this being a waste of time. He was still looking up at the exquisite ceiling of the room when suddenly, his left foot caught on something and he tripped. Valerie, who also happened to be on Ron's left, deftly caught him midway through his fall. 'Thanks! Nice reflexes you got there, Valerie! Must be an auror thing, eh?' said Ron appreciatively. Valerie turned her face away to hide her blush and mumbled something incoherent.

Ron turned around and fixed his gaze on what tripped him: thin air. After years of going on dark and secretive missions for the ministry, Ron wasn't puzzled at all by the apparent lack of a solid object in the space that he knew he tripped at. Suspecting exactly what it might be, Ron cautiously thrust his arms forward and felt around for an object and the invisible cloak that must be covering it. He was not disappointed. Pulling away the invisibility cloak, Ron discovered another cloak, black in colour. Meanwhile, Valerie has called Shacklebolt and Mr. Zed over. After explaining to the two senior investigators of what just happened, all three turned their attention to Ron, who was turning the cloak over and over, examining it closely.

'This is odd… how come my people didn't stumble upon this earlier?' said Mr. Zed furiously, clearly unhappy about not discovering something before the magical folks. 'They assured me they have covered every inch of this place!'

'Maybe they just had bad luck. This is pretty isolated corner of the exhibit room, Mr. Zed.' Said Valerie soothingly. 'Your people aren't use to invisible objects either, maybe they just didn't think anything can be gained from examining an empty looking area.'

'Then what the heck were your aurors doing, Shacklebolt?' asked Mr. Zed angrily. 'Surely, your own criminal investigators must be familiar with such an obvious crime tool as an invisibility cloak and thought of looking for such things?' continued Mr. Zed, sarcasm dripping all over his voice now.

Kingsley was still trying to think of a proper retort to this latest attack on the auror's competence (though in truth, Kingsley was also appalled by this glaring omission in his young aurors' work) when Ron yelled: 'Hey, there is a note in the cloak's pocket.'

Ron quickly pulled out the note, a piece of parchment, and scanned it. Without a word, he handed it to Shacklebolt, an unreadable expression on his face.

'Hum… Mr. Weasley', started Kingsley, after glancing at the content of the parchment. 'I'm afraid I can't read these ancient runes. Can you just tell me what the parchment says?'

'Oh, you don't?' asked Ron, surprised that the senior auror didn't know the ancient runic language the parchment is written in. 'Eh… to tell you the truth… neither can I. I was hoping you were going to read it aloud. haha!' finished Ron, slowly scratching his head in embarrassment, a goofy grin on his face.

'Oh, honestly!' Exclaimed Valerie. 'Here, I will read it for you!' And she quickly grabbed the parchment out of Kingsley's hands, looking it over carefully.

'How do you even know you can read this particular set of runes?' questioned Ron, a familiar tone creeping into this voice. 'I mean, I might not know ancient runes and all, but I definitively remember Hermione telling me there are at least a dozen different language sets of them.'

'Well…' started Valerie, pausing for seemingly dramatic effect. 'I actually know all of them.'

'That's impossible!' countered Ron, still with that familiar tone in his voice. 'Even Hermione didn't know all of them. And if she can't, then no one can.' Finished Ron, with such conviction that left no doubt to all present as to whom Ron considered to be the smartest witch.

'Eh… well, I happen to know this one', stated Valerie carefully, obviously not wanting to be drawn into an argument against the object of her affection. 'It seems to be a chronicle of some kind.'

'Hum… can you be more precise, Ms. Green?' asked Shacklebolt, curious.

'Yes, I think so.' Valerie said absentmindedly, still concentrated on translating the parchment in her head. 'Well, if I am not mistaken, this must be part of an old copy of Merlin's personal diary.'

'The Journal of Merlin? I didn't know any records from that period even survived!' exclaimed Shacklebolt, obviously surprised.

'Yeah, it is definitively not common knowledge. I believe professor Binns mentioned it only once in class, and only as a passing reference too.' Explained Valerie for the other three. 'Fortunately, because of my ancient runes studies, I know for a fact that back in the old days, they use to have almost the entire, uncensored copy of Merlin's Journal circulating around. In the original runic language, of course. Eventually, the Magical Council, the predecessor of our Ministry of Magic, realized that the information contained in the journal was way too dangerous, and banned the making of any kind of copy of the journal, forever. That ban is still enforced to this day, and all copies of the journal that were found were immediately destroyed.' Finished Valerie, a bit out of breath from all the explanation she just gave.

'Wow! This is some great history lesson, Valerie. If only Binns taught like that.' said Ron, sincerely impressed by the depth of the young girl's knowledge. 'I didn't even know such a ban existed! And I've been a top agent in the ministry for years now.' Kingsley remained silent, though the expression on his face showed that he was just as impressed by the new information as Ron.

'Really… Stop being surprised so much.' Chided Mr. Zed, far less impressed by the new information concerning the greatest wizard in recorded history than the two other men. '…Although I doubt the presence of this piece of paper is a coincidence, since we are dealing with the theft of the Excalibur and all.' Added the muggle chief, trying to bring the subject back to the ongoing investigation.

'True, true.' Concurred Shacklebolt. 'Can you tell us what the parchment says, Ms. Green? Perhaps that might tell us something about the thieves' intentions.'

'Of course… Hmm…' Valerie's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 'Merlin seems to be talking about his own funeral arrangements in this passage. A lot of the text has already been censored. From what I can gather, Merlin is saying how he knows that his magical creations and artefacts might eventually be used for evil. But he is also saying that it can be used to fight evil or something like that. He's just using a very poetic and round about way of saying it in this text. Anyway, he goes on about this debate for a while here, sounds like he's trying to convince himself. Geez, who would have thought Merlin was so indecisive.' Here, Valerie slowly shook her head in disapproval. She quickly ran her finger over the lines of ancient runes, obviously scanning for something. 'Ah, here we are. He writes here that he finally decided to lock all of his magical spell books, items, and his staff in a tomb located… Hmm… the location of the tomb was censored already on this copy of the Journal... Anyway, he said that to insure his things doesn't fall into the wrong hands, he magically tuned the entrance to his tomb to only open at the presence of his best friend's sword…'

'Hmm… I wonder who this best friend is.' Thought Ron cluelessly, and aloud for everyone to hear. 'Why didn't he just use his mate Arthur's Excalibur instea…' Ron trailed off, comprehension finally dawning on his face.

Valerie suppressed a giggle, while the other two men gave Ron disapproving looks, although of different nature. Kingsley's look seemed more like that of a father scolding a child, while Mr. Zed's look reminded Ron unpleasantly of the looks he use to get from his Potions professor back at Hogwarts.

'Oh well, I guess we have a better idea of the thieves' motives now.' Stated Shacklebolt, voicing aloud what all four have already concluded. 'The Death Eaters must want to gain access to Merlin's magical artefacts to regain power.' Here, the aged auror started to ramble, with a slight panic in his voice: 'If they do find those things, I shutter to think of what kind of damage they can inflict. It's already bad enough that they have the Excalibur, but, Merlin's beard! If they get their hands on all those ancient spells! And all those magical artefacts that we've only heard in legends! We'd all be…'

'Eh… wait a minute here, Shacklebolt!' interjected Mr. Zed, a bit alarmed by his magical counterpart's unusual display of panic. 'Don't you think this is a bit too convenient? I mean, here we are, without a clear clue as to what these so-called Death Eaters want the Excalibur for, and all of a sudden, very conveniently, we find this piece of paper that tells us exactly what we were trying to find out?' concluded Mr. Zed, looking suspiciously at Ron.

Ron, no longer as clueless as he was in his youth, caught on to the look immediately, and indignantly said: 'What? You think I put this parchment here? I just got here, for crying out loud!'

'Precisely! You', exclaimed Mr. Zed, pointing an aged finger right at Ron's face. 'just got here, and luckily got tripped by this invisible cloak that, by pure coincidence, all the people who were investigating this room didn't stumble upon. Awfully lucky, don't you think? Tell me, Ms. Green. Did you see any parchment in that black cloak before you came to get us?'

'No. Sorry Mr. Zed. I saw what Ron uncovered and came to fetch you and Commander Shacklebolt right away.' Answered Valerie, now looking terrified about the turn of events.

'Eh… Mr. Zed' started Ron, in the low, calm voice typical of someone about to unleash some terrible punishment upon his foe. 'Do you know who I am?'

'What? Are you trying to scare me or som…'

'I', interrupted Ron forcefully. 'am Ronald Weasley, carrier of the Fire Shard. I have journeyed through horrors you can possibly begin to imagine. I helped defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort, leader of the Death Eaters. I have hunted their remnants for the past seven years. Are you accusing ME of conspiring with Death Eaters?'

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a bit taken aback by the intensity of Ron's words. It was the first time he has heard the boy speak of his travels with the famous Harry Potter in public. He, like the rest of the magical world, knew that the famous trio and one of their friends had, at some point, gone on a secret journey to gain the power needed to defeat Voldemort.

However, the nature of that journey was a very private affair, and no one knew what the four of them did on, or obtained from, the trip. Well, no one, except the ancient Dumbledore, of course. But the headmaster was dead, and so was the trio's friend. Thus no one alive, save the famous trio, knew about the exact details of the journey. Now, it seemed that Ron, intentionally or not (Kingsley thought it was the latter), has finally slipped and revealed some details of the trip. However, since Shacklebolt had no idea what the Fire Shard was suppose to be, he wasn't exactly that more informed than before.

The senior auror decided that there were more pressing matters at hand than to satisfy his own curiosity, and thus said: 'Mr. Zed, please just let it go. Mr. Weasley's past and present actions make him the most trustworthy agent we can possibly have. In fact, I dare say that you can trust him more than you can trust me on the matter of Death Eaters.'

'Hmm…. Alright, if you say so, Shacklebolt. I still think it is just too convenient that this piece of paper just happen to be here.' Said the muggle chief, somewhat mollified. 'Perhaps these death eating people left it behind on purpose to distract us from their real goal.'

'I agree.' Said Ron, still shooting daggers at Mr. Zed. 'But this is the only lead we have.'

'Why don't you work on it then!' launched Mr. Zed sharply. 'Since you seem so keen on the idea? Shacklebolt and I will continue to investigate from our end.'

Ron was just about to retort with a comment about Mr. Zed's mother when Kingsley wisely cut in: 'Ron, he has a point. There aren't really any more leads. Maybe it is best if you go and follow this lead about the Journal of Merlin. Zed and me will keep on analyzing the data we already have. I will let you know if we find something new, don't worry.'

Ron, by now also convinced that the parchment and cloak must be some kind of Death Eater decoy, didn't like the idea at all. But since it was true that they don't have any more leads, and also since he's always preferred to be doing something rather than thinking about something, Ron begrudgingly nodded his head and strode silently toward the exhibit room's exit. Behind him, Valerie said a quick good-bye to Shacklebolt, and followed Ron out.

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A/N: Please R & R so that I know there are people actually reading this thing out there!


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